Thank’s Krishna, I need all the time I can get. Do I stay or do I go now? Which now do I pick (containing which bed?) It’s halfway between late and early. Think. Think think think. Ok, make lists, check in, get rational because there’s a now moment just there, you see it? They’re all crowding in now everything else is still. See it? That’s it just there. It’s close, that now when I’ll need to know what I think about this.

Do I go now

What selfimposed enigma?

I was drunk or buzzed or whatever an hour ago, but not hungover yet. Not that high. I’m fine: driveable.

What selfinvolved enigma?

There’s at least three, maybe four guys in this room and another on the balcony entwined in the sargasso friend zone, who would help me scoop up Drunkalinda and insert her into my car so I might drive home maintaining constant uniform acceleration, her upper body arranged along parallel lines to the passenger window meeting at infinity. Unless she pukes.

What selfevident enigma?

The height of the open window exceeds the arc of her body whilst vomiting. She’ll vomit into the door her face intersecting at a 90 degree angle the top of the window (recessed). She can ride in the back seat with a trash bag.

Do I stay

What play of forces, inducing inertia, render departure undesirable?

The invitation from the one to share his bed: the proximity of an occupied bed, obviating research: the anticipation of warmth (human) obviating desire and rendering desire desirable. The simultaneous invitation from the other one to share his bed: sound entwined with Echo.

Am I entering a lair or ambush of lust or adders?

Probably. There are snakespirals and pendent viper radii loose in every coming now. See them? With everything in an eternal pause I can’t know if they are coiling or uncoiling. Will this now coil and create a universe? What about that one? Will that now uncoil and destroy my world? The odds are 20:1.

What personal objects are perceived?

To the north: tall, fair, blue, has a laughing kind of a voice. To the west: short, dark, brown, disposed on the floor, coiled. To the south: tall, dark, blue, watching me and watching me: perpetual inaction originating in and repeated to infinity.

Now watch the clock. Keep your eye on it. There. That was one. Did you blink? I can slow it back down for you if you like, I’ve done it before, but we’d be here forever.

Let’s try again. There’s another one coming and there! See it? The longer hand and the shorter hand were at exactly the same angle of inclination. That’s the moment, that’s the way in, you understand. When the longer is the momma and the shorter is the girl, the way to shorter leads through longer and the way to longer leads through shorter.

Now pay attention, here it comes again and now! You missed it. Listen. You think this is easy tinkering with time for you? Try to focus. You think it’s everyday a mother and daughter feel simultaneously inclined? Yes it is every day, twenty two times a day, but I’m making a point, you owl, so don’t give me your shit. I can go. You know that, don’t you, I’ll leave. And then when will you be? I thought so. And we just missed another one, so. Yeah. Are we doing this? You ready? You’re not ready. I’m going to have to stop time or I’ll be explaining this until I’m blue in the face.

Stop.

Now let’s do the math. The hands kiss every hour and five and five elevenths minutes. Get that? Keep up. The daughter moves twelve times as fast as her mother, but that doesn’t mean momma’s not moving too. Frankly I’ll take a woman who understands a good slow rotation any day. But you are young, you like it fast, that’s your deal. So. Just know that momma is moving too, thirty degrees to her girl’s three hundred and sixty, so little miss chica moves fast, but she always plays catch up. Oh so much for her to learn. Do the division, divide little missy’s speed by momma’s endurance. Feel that eleven rising? Right there in your face. And start. And we just missed another one. Right. Right. Kid. Enough mathematics, we need to get scientific now. And musical, let’s try a higher octave. Yes? We can philosophize until the owls come home but that doesn’t get either you or me any nearer either one of them. You ready? Really feel it this time. Now go!

I don’t care. I said what I said and I was right too. Now I’d better calm down because we’ll get there soon and she’ll be grieving. And I’ll help her. I can save her, sort out her insurance and she’ll be grateful. She’ll say she couldn’t imagine what she would have done without me. She’ll say thank you. She’ll say are you blue? Who the hell are you?

What the hell is happening? Did everything just stop? What’s going on?

Krishna: I changed the now moment. You are used to a, what’s that word? Kinch, a knife blade. A now infinitely thin separating past from future. I gave the now extension without duration.

What does that mean? It’s like you pressed a pause button or something.

Krishna: Ok. If that works for you. I paused time.

What? Why?

Krishna: Because you need help. You are headed for a fall of your own creation. You are laboring under an illusion and I’m here to tell you that creation leads to dissolution and back again. And again. That’s how it goes.

Look. Help me out here. I’m just going to see a widow to help her through a life insurance issue. Goodness of my heart. Change her future for the better.

Krishna: Right. Purely altruistic. I see you. I can see that you are performing this action with the expectation of a particular outcome. A particularly flattering to you outcome. I’m saying let it go. Help the woman, go ahead. But stop thinking about what may result from it. Do your duty and let it go.

But looking down the road for her, her prospects

Krishna: What road? There is no road. There’s no now and later. Time is static, man. It does not have uni-directional flow. It can’t be perceived, just inferred from motion and change.

No. I’m not going to listen to some blue man groupie. You’re the driver? Then drive on buddy. I have a widow to visit. Are you sticking your tongue out at me? Wait, weren’t you a guy? Who are you now?

Forming. Forming. And I thought the afterlife was for fulfilling. Try resurrection some time! I died. I came back. Who does that? I must be, yes, I am a God. Yes. Yes. Feel it. I was the formless spiritual and now I am the Allfather, Adam Kadmon, the heavenly man. Jesus Christ I’m a magician now, the magician of the beautiful! Oh yes, I am back. I was never an ordinary person. I lived the life esoteric, and look at me now! Get a glimpse of my elemental! Not so blurry today. This is the virgin birth, right here. In this space. At this time. Soul reinserted into body. I am God!

Krishna: Stop!

Wait, what just happened. Who are you? Why did everything just freeze in place? Why are you blue?

Krishna: I have stopped time. Listen to me, I will tell you the secret of life.

I already know the secret of life. I am the secret of life! Look at me. I’m back, baby. I’m here. I’m in a library talking Hamlet with a kid and an old new critic. And I am the only one here who knows the truth of the afterlife that the kid dances around.

Krishna: Those who are without faith in my teaching cannot attain me; they endlessly return to this world shuttling from death to death.

Ah, but that’s where you are wrong blue man, I haven’t been reincarnated. This is not your ordinary metempsychosis. You are looking at resurrection! This is altogether a different kettle of fish.

The Ondt: [Clipping the end of a cigar. Havana. A fine Romeo y Julieta] You smell like a kettle of fish, Æ, your Auric egg’s gone bad.

Krishna: That rotten egg smell is your sulfuric breath, Ondt. What are you doing here? How did you get into this moment? I stopped time, this is our now. Out, Ondt!

The Ondt: [making faces at himself in the window] Honey, this is my space. I can crawl into your now through spaces smaller than red globules of man’s blood and back out through Blake’s buttocks into eternity if I like. You hold to the now all you like, but it is the here, through which all future plunges to the past.

Krishna: Fine. Æ, we shall proceed regardless. You have not become deathless; you have merely become manifest without a rebirth. You are most certainly not God or even a god. I am God! I am known by everyone as the many, the One; behind the faces of a million gods, they can see my face. I am the ritual and the worship, the medicine and the mantra, the butter burnt in the fire, and I am the flames that consume it.

The Ondt: [Taking the form of the Lord of Loaves] Got a light? And hey, don’t burn up all that butter.

You both need to cool it. Look, I used to think that the world’s revolutions were born out of the dreams and visions in a peasant’s heart on a hillside, from the people for whom the earth is a living mother. But I don’t think so anymore. The world’s revolutions are born from those of us who say this verily is that. I took my own fate by the balls. The point is I am the point. I have free will! I used to think that God is a stage manager in the theatre of the eternal, but I am beyond that now. I am God if I say I am God. What of it? You can be God too if you like. And look there, you see that person breathing all over us? That one who clicks instead of talks? And stares and stares, eyeballs moving here and now here and then over to here. There is God. God is a click in the street.

Krishna: [Crossing his arms defensively. He is caught between the devil and the ocean of Theosophy] I know all beings who have passed, and all who live now, Æ, and all who are yet to be. In the face of the one who can see all temporalities, how can you be so distressingly shortsighted? How can you believe your will is free?

You guys can blow smoke up my ass all day if you like, I don’t care. I know what I know. Talk until you are blue in the face. I’m making plans.